so. summer. its here. (sustain)

Its tuesday, it is technically the fourth and a half day of summer. (not counting the weekend when they are at their dads, if so, that would be two more days, because facts matter. actual facts, i mean.) I have had children tell me they hate summer salads. I have had children crying because they can’t do something every day. Teenagers have cried on the inside at my absolute bitchery. what happens on the outside is sullen, and often involves speed-dialing their dad to complain. this makes me feel SOOOOO good.

Also? this is the second day of non-beachy weather and so, kindof home-bound. I have had talks about how we can’t get ice cream every day and if we’re going to buy the ‘pitch back’ and the ‘gymnastics bar’, then we are going to have to figure out how to like summer salads, because take out is for special events, not EVERY GODDAMN DAY. I have had talks, to deaf ears (not my own) about how to fill time when bored. Today I will take a phone away, for the charges I found when I woke up this morning. It will be banner. BANNER.

GUys. This is tuesday, of the first full week.

(and i have 30,000 words to write in the next ten days.)

(i’m getting up very early. werk.)

I’m fine! I really am! I’m going to be fine! I’ve done this before. I’m totally chill. I don’t mind driving them around, I don’t. I could do with a little less complaining for their charmed lives, but I’m fine. we’re good. Next year, everyone is getting a damn job. Less time means less complaining, right?

Not my bunnies. But just like ’em..Photo by Pixabay on

I’m still poet-ing with my old friend and I just love it. There is a piece of me that is so damn happy to still be alive, alive enough to be poet-ing.

the latest thing I wrote in that exchange? This:

-am watching a baby bunny outside,

clover and green are what sustain.

and me too, these small things sustain.

Sweet, right? So tiny. but so lovely.

sustain, baby.

love love,



Poem: not sure you’ll get it. s’ok tho.

Kids running, street lights buzzing- on, repetitions unplanned for. Distraction, uncoupling, loose car on a track.

My daughter cracks because mom didn’t look. How many times have I wanted to be witnessed? Just WITNESSED… i understand and it still cracks me. i can’t be looking all the time. she must learn to be her witness, and me too, i must.

lack, i am aware of how it plays, how it pays, the dividends of remorse, fear, mistake, compulsion. there is no thing to hold me then.

plenty. there is that too, and i spin in my time alone. each day making up for a sleepless night, a horrified waiting, a heartbreaking arrival. the ratio has not been worked out. but i’m gaining.

young female blowing huge balloon in sky
Photo by Gelatin on

*tried something new today. talked with an old lover yesterday who always challenges me with his words, and i remembered how much i like to twist and turn in poetry, and in challenge. so, i shared it. don’t know if any of it will resonate. but it does for me.

old dogs. new tricks. welcome summer.

love love,



Old enough.

Shah, right.

I got my taxes delivered to the tax man.

(my aunt can now breathe more freely…)

And after doing so I walked around the downtown of the small city I live near. I love this little city. I’ve spent some of my young adulthood here. There is so much that keeps changing and so much that is still the same. I re- remembered about crazy people and eye contact vs. no eye contact. Its debatable, really. Eye contact lets them know you’re not a pushover and also, if they’re truly crazy, gives them the belief that they should talk to you.

which i do not like.

So be it. call me walled off, whatever.

I’m old enough to do what I want, right?

I opted for no eye contact today but I did return the hellos I got with a hello and a smile directed at my own feet. And I did get a fabulous coffee and a breakfast sandwich that someone else made. AND I spent some time remembering the skater boys who owned the skate shop and who were so damn cute. I imagine they’re all dads now… Their store is hella bigger than it used to be, and I’m pretty damn happy for them. I spotted the restaurant that is so good at social media stuff. It was a good time. And I drove off like a grown up, feeling so happy that my taxes are now in someone else’s hands. There is a gaping hole on my desk where the paperwork was. How brilliant. How old am I, you ask? Plenty old, I say.

But there it is. I am just old enough to feel the satisfaction of one less dead branch hanging over my tent. One less broken rung in the ladder. This is the week I replaced all the flickering light bulbs and re-hung the clothesline. These are the things. And in my days and nights when I don’t recognize them as ‘enough’, there are other things too.

There are the secretaries who call the wrong number on the medical form when they should be calling the kid’s dad. We laugh, and they get all the information from me anyhow. Because I’m the mom. Women are good, and we laugh together. I like that.

My garden is growing, in fits, and waiting is hard for me. legitimately hard. but I have a thing to do every day now when I’m avoiding a feeling or a project and its good for me, and i think the cucumber plants know my name now, so we’re all doing better for it.

And I’ll be okay about the summer. I will. (just remind me of this post, when i forget mid-july and begin to despair.)

And my tax man is already asking me questions and I am in love.

I’m definitely old enough.

love love,


what an interesting photo, you say? hmm. yes. Intersections of empty. And a fairy on a frog, intersected.

Happy, like Pharrell happy.

  1. I’ve got another writing project again and I can kvetch about how its hard to write for hours a day but now I can and I will get paid. I’m very happy about that.
  2. I’m already procrastinating about said job and am going to take a bath today while it rains on my garden which is going to explode. I’m so very happy about that.
  3. I’m thinking the rain will cancel both baseball and lacrosse and everyone will be home for a real honest-to-god sit down dinner and I might even break out the placemats. I’m wildly ecstatic. (crazy rare right now)
  4. The rain. Let it rain. rain. rain. farmers are dancing all over right now. dancing. Their joy will feed us!
  5. I took the sweatshirts off the line before the rain came. While everything around me might be falling down? Dry sweatshirts and a victory are pretty damn satisfying. (small things are breaking, just small ones. no worries.)
  6. Still haven’t completed my taxes but I’m feeling great that they are finally underway. Productivity and accomplishment are coming! I’m quite pleased.
  7. This is the kind of rain that will end in rainbows. And i’m wildly happy about my life, that I know this.
  8. I have a chicken who refuses to sleep in the coop and she lays her eggs in the shed. She has survived so far, and I think she might believe herself to be a rooster. I’m thrilled for her. I have no idea where she/he lays his/her head at night. Whatever it takes.
  9. I can sit and type and look out at the rain. And this is part of my work. To let my brain wander and fill in characters and wander back again to the page. How could anything be better? (delirious.)
  10. School is out in a day and a half. I’m a little nervous, but also feel like a pro at this point. I’ve already heard the ‘its so boring, we have to do something fun every day’ pitch and it is a little bit panicky to hear it before school even ends, but damnit, they say every summer is the best summer ever, every year, so I must be doing something less than horrible. And I’m clutching to the joys of corn on the cob and kids happily playing with friends. Clutching to Joy. (my next book. HA! WHITE KNUCKLED GRASP OF JOY!)

love you,


Pharrell* If you don’t know what this is, for goodness sakes. Do it now.



I’m constantly starting over.

(Or, thats how it feels)

I’m figuring things out, and I rarely get it on the first try. So, I go again.

I think that the writing I did on ‘I want’ prompt made me so unhappy because it became a litany of things I need. It had no magic in it, it had only dreams that were practical in nature, things that are dreams because they would ease hardships, or heat-related tomfoolery. There were nightmares there, and I basically disdain any list that has nightmares on it. Don’t you? Come on now.

I needed to change the language for myself. So herein: A WISH LIST. (its the ticket for me.)

  1. I wish I could incorporate all of the greens I see out my window directly into my soul. That’s the feeling I want to have. That wild euphoric variation. (better than ice cream by a thousand)
  2. I wish I could more fully communicate with the birds who live in the trees outside my window. I’d love to know what’s going on with them.
  3. I wish I could flip a switch when my brain gets rattled and worried about all the things and just get back to the green.
  4. I wish old houses had old faeries to fix all the things. Should I start putting milk out at night for them, in case they are here? (noel, i’m smiling at you.)
  5. I wish I had more patience to wait and see the zinnias. I’m dying man. (and the dahlias? COME ON. I can hardly stand it.)

I do think that my life so far has not been about what I wanted entirely, but I did have time at college and I did make choices when I was ridiculously young, that were about my own wants and joys. So, there is that. I was a real go-with-the-flow girl and so i rode the wave, swept here and there.

When I think about wanting and my ‘life’, I really think about the past decade, the marriage and divorce and ‘when does kate grow up?’ years. I still have this niggling feeling that I’m ‘supposed’ to be doing something else, that someone disapproves of what I’m doing, or its not enough, or I should have a ‘real’ direction. (all whispered)

So. A wish list.

6. I wish I could still ride the wave, and go with the flow. MORE. I wish to do it MORE.

Still figuring it out,

love love,


****It’s the new moon today, so make your own list, what do you wish for? Its the day for setting new intentions!

grass beside the sea
Wishful… Photo by Melanie Wupperman on